


Quebec

by glitterburn (orphan_account)



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/glitterburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They sell fantasy. What if it’s real? (Dollhouse fusion AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quebec

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crazy_Dumpling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Dumpling/gifts).



They meet on the thirty-sixth floor of an office block downtown.

Halfway through the interview process, Kyuhyun is shown into a reception room. He’s wearing his best suit, bought in a sale at an outlet store, and he’s wearing knock-off designer cologne that smells more of soap than sandalwood.

There’s someone else waiting in the room. The other guy is wearing ripped jeans and a knee-length leather coat patterned to resemble snakeskin. His hands rest on his thighs. Even in repose he gives off the impression of watchful energy. He’s not wasting his time reading one of the many magazines laid out on the table. He hasn’t helped himself to any of the snacks or drinks on offer. When Kyuhyun came in, the guy was staring out of the window at the glare of the sun.

Kyuhyun nods politely and takes a seat opposite. Jeans guy smiles. He has a shock of dark hair worn too long and casually styled, and narrow eyes that twinkle with interest as he looks at Kyuhyun. He’s wearing a name badge, too, which means he must be here for the job interview. Kyuhyun leans forward just slightly to read the name _Jongwoon_ written in Roman script. 

“Word of advice,” Jongwoon says. “Lose the tie.” He gestures to his own throat as if undoing an invisible tie. As if a guy in a snakeskin coat and a Sex Pistols t-shirt would wear a tie in the first place. “It makes you look older,” Jongwoon says by way of explanation. He has low voice with an attractive husky quality that makes Kyuhyun think of rough smoke.

Bemused by this opening gambit, Kyuhyun says, “Maybe I want to look older.”

Jongwoon wrinkles his nose. “Why?”

“Maybe because I want people to take me seriously.”

There’s a pause. Jongwoon tilts his head. “They don’t already?”

It’s not really funny, but Kyuhyun laughs anyway. “Look at me.”

“I am.” Jongwoon gives him a broad grin. “I’d take you seriously.”

“Are you hitting on me?”

“No.” Another smile. Jongwoon seems to be made of smiles. “I mean, not yet. Would you like me to?”

Amused now, Kyuhyun finds himself blushing. “Is this part of the interview?”

“If so, it’s my favourite part so far.” Slouching down in his seat, Jongwoon stretches out his legs and grins again. “Those isometric tests were stupid and boring. And the head security guy? Totally lame. I had a look around the mainframe when he was fetching me a coffee. No security protocols on that thing. Unless that was a test, too. It probably was, now I think about it. God, I hope it was, otherwise I wouldn’t want to work here even if they offered triple pay, because I breached the system to level six in less than a minute and if that wasn’t a test then they have some serious issues that I don’t want to be responsible for, no way.”

Kyuhyun smiles at this stream of commentary. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You went for the same job as me, right? The ad on the corner of the Samsung billboard in the mall? Written in code, a kind of challenge. ‘If you can read this, call...’” Jongwoon opens his hands and makes an expansive gesture. “I had nothing better to do. I called and here I am.”

It’s completely different to Kyuhyun’s experience. “I was invited,” he says. “A guy on the street stopped me and gave me his card. Talent spotting, he said. Asked if I could sing, if I’d done any modelling.” Heat rises to his face again; he feels like he’s showing off. “I’ve been approached before. One of those big entertainment agencies wanted to sign me, but my parents refused. But now... Now I can decide for myself. This seemed like a second chance.”

Jongwoon seems impressed. “Awesome. You have the looks for sure. I mean, you’re tall and—and all that stuff.”

“I don’t want to be in some disposable boy band,” Kyuhyun says. “I want to be an actor.”

“Ah.” Now Jongwoon wags a finger at him. “That’s why you want to look older.”

Pleased by his understanding, Kyuhyun nods. “Yes. Most people want to underestimate me.”

“Most people are idiots.”

They smile at each other in warm silence, and then Jongwoon says, “I guess you didn’t do the isometric tests, then.”

“No. Maybe that’s what I’m doing next. Any tips?”

“The answers repeat after five questions.” Jongwoon frowns in memory, cradling his hands together as he leans forward. “The questions are all different, but the answers are the same. Kinda weird.”

“Must be one of those trick tests,” Kyuhyun says. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The frown vanishes and Jongwoon beams at him again. “Did you meet the boss yet? Zhou Mi, his name is. Really polite. He smiles too much.”

Kyuhyun laughs. “So do you.”

Jongwoon’s smile fades. “It’s different.”

* * *

Kyuhyun doesn’t have to do an isometric test. He’s called through to meet Zhou Mi. They have a long conversation about nothing of any importance.

Zhou Mi is tall, with pale skin and hair the colour of drenched fox. He’s impeccably dressed and is exquisitely polite. He pours white tea scented with peaches into tiny celadon cups. Only when they’ve drunk three cups does he make his offer.

The deal is simple. For the next five years, Kyuhyun will grant the Dollhouse the complete use of his body. His memories will be downloaded onto a cassette and stored away safely until the day his contract ends, upon which time his old life will be returned to him. For the next five years, he will have memories imprinted upon him for the duration of engagements with clients. At the end of an engagement, his mind will be wiped clear. He will not carry any stray memories from one engagement into another.

Once his term of service ends, he will be paid a sizeable fortune.

Kyuhyun’s eyebrows twitch up when Zhou Mi mentions the figure, but he’s not entirely lost to avarice. He asks what kind of engagements his body will be required to carry out.

“Nothing you’re not fully prepared to do,” Zhou Mi says, smiling. “Everything you do will be your choice. It’s completely consensual.”

“Because you programme consent into the memories,” Kyuhyun says.

Zhou Mi’s smile doesn’t waver. “It is completely consensual.” His teeth gleam. They’re very white. “You understand I cannot divulge any specifics as to the nature of potential engagements, but rest assured that you will never be in any danger. You’ll have a handler on call a short distance away the whole time and everything will be monitored.”

Kyuhyun arches his eyebrows this time. “Everything?”

That smile still doesn’t slip. “Everything.”

There’s a moment of silence. Kyuhyun sits forward and pours more tea without being invited. “If I say no?”

Zhou Mi’s smile glistens. “You are free to leave. After we’ve taken the precaution of erasing your memory of the last couple of hours, of course.”

Kyuhyun raises the cup to his lips. “Of course.”

Jongwoon was right. Zhou Mi smiles too much.

* * *

Something goes wrong when they try to take his memories. Though a cassette is made and a robot arm slots it away in a wall of recorded memories real and imagined, Kyuhyun can still remember everything. He opens his eyes in confusion and looks at the technician, who gives him a soothing smile.

“Hello, Quebec.”

Kyuhyun stares. He wants to say _Kyuhyun, my name is Kyuhyun_ , but then he realises he shouldn’t be himself any more. He should be a Doll, pliant and placid and ready to receive whatever memories are deemed appropriate. If he tells the technician that the process didn’t work, he’ll be sent away without the fortune he was promised.

Or, more likely, if they can’t erase his memories with their machine, they’ll find some other way to silence him.

“Just lie there, Quebec,” the technician instructs, her tone as slow and calm as if speaking to a very young child. “You’re going to meet someone important now.”

The door opens. A man in a snakeskin coat comes in. He’s clutching a script. He looks nervous and determined. When he raises his head, his eyes widen and he jolts to a halt. “Kyuhyun.”

“Quebec,” the technician corrects. Annoyance flickers through her expression, but it smoothes out as she turns to Kyuhyun again. “Quebec, look who’s here. This is Jongwoon. He’s your handler. He’s your friend. You can trust him.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s right.” Fumbling with the script, Jongwoon comes closer. He takes Kyuhyun’s hand, glances again at the paper, then looks into Kyuhyun’s eyes and recites, “I’m here now. Everything will be all right. You can trust me.”

* * *

Kyuhyun learns quickly. He has to, or risk discovery. For several days he wanders around the Dollhouse, careful to imitate the serene expressions and calm demeanours of the other Dolls. He mimics their speech patterns and unhurried movements. It’s like being a child again, but with an attention span limited to an hour.

He shares a sleeping room with Romeo, Whisky, and Tango. Even though they’re supposed to be blank canvases, Kyuhyun sees flashes of individual personality in each of them. Romeo, for example—sometimes he catches Romeo looking at him as if trying to puzzle something out. And if Zhou Mi happens to pass by, Whisky will get to his feet and gaze after Zhou Mi as if expecting to be summoned, and when nothing happens, Whisky looks hurt and confused and guilty.

As for Tango, he pushes himself further than the other Dolls. He swims more laps of the pool, spends ten minutes longer on the running machines, contorts himself into the most difficult positions during yoga class. Where the other Dolls express simple joy at achieving their daily fitness goals, Tango sits silent, his expression so blank it’s as if he really is a doll.

Kyuhyun is careful to spend the same amount of time with each of his roommates. He sits with Whisky during art class. Whisky paints fire, a sheep, an altar, and then fills in the paper very carefully with black. In pottery class, he sits with Romeo, who makes towers of clay. Tango doesn’t join in these activities. He just perches on a stool and watches the rest of them. After class is over, Kyuhyun sits with Tango on a squashy leather sofa and they look through picture books at photographs of jungles and deserts, glaciers and mountains.

The handlers roam the Dollhouse, too. Kyuhyun is particularly alert whenever he encounters a handler, but most of them assume that he’s as memory-wiped as the others and pay him scant attention. Only Jongwoon watches him with the glimmer of something other than disinterest. Maybe it’s just because Jongwoon is his handler and they’re both waiting for his first engagement. Maybe it’s because they’d met before. Maybe it’s because of something else, or maybe it’s nothing at all.

One day, Kyuhyun follows Tango when his handler, Hyukjae, comes to summon him for an engagement. Kyuhyun watches through the door as Tango lies in the chair, docile, then arcs back as the machine imprints him with his new personality. Tango leaves the room talking about neutralising any attempt at military reprisals and the importance of swift and deadly action.

Kyuhyun starts to worry. He’s sure he can improvise his way through any given situation, but pretence will only get him so far. Maybe he should start working out how to run when he’s sent on engagement, otherwise his first mission might well be his last.

* * *

He doesn’t run.

His first task is simple enough—play the role of doting boyfriend to a successful older woman attending a school reunion. It’s easy. He can make himself believe that he loves her, even though he feels sad that she’s felt the need to hire someone like him. They hold hands and kiss a lot, and at the end of the evening she thanks him and that’s it.

Kyuhyun thinks he can do this.

His next few tasks are also romantic interludes. Some are with men; some are with women. He performs as required, honing the facets of his persona a little more each time. He considers himself adept at reading people, and perhaps because his clients have all paid an exorbitant amount of money to be with him, they telegraph their desires more obviously than if he’d been out on a real date. They’re not pretending; they’re not lying. It’s so much easier for him to anticipate and fulfil their expectations. It’s also easier for him to detach from the experience, even as he polishes the illusion of a loving, adoring facade.

He feels a little guilty sometimes. A client buying a Doll as a romantic companion is paying for a genuine experience. When Whisky, Romeo, and Tango go out on intimate engagements, they’re all honestly, deeply in love with their clients. But Kyuhyun is only pretending to be in love, and yet the clients believe that his false love is real because that’s what they’ve paid for, and sometimes, only sometimes, he feels bad that they’re not getting what they want.

Perhaps this translates into his performance.

“Several clients have remarked on Quebec’s reticence,” he overhears Zhou Mi telling Jongwoon one day.

“He’s not backwards in coming forwards, if that’s what you’re saying,” Jongwoon says, defensive.

“Goodness me, no. Nothing like that.” Zhou Mi’s soft laugh seems careless, but his gaze is steady when he looks past Jongwoon to where Kyuhyun is sitting with Tango.

Kyuhyun shows not the slightest flicker of interest in their conversation. He turns the pages of a picture book.

“It’s simply curious, that’s all,” Zhou Mi continues. “We’ve imprinted him with impetuous and uninhibited personae, and yet he still displays a certain caution. Fascinating, really. It’s as if part of his natural personality has remained. That’s impossible, of course, but still...”

Kyuhyun stares at the face of a glacier until Tango makes an impatient noise. He turns the page and they look at the image of a polar bear stalking across the ice.

“Are the clients complaining about it?” Jongwoon asks.

“No.” Zhou Mi smiles. “That’s the delicious thing. Even when they ask for a lover without inhibitions, they’re delighted with Quebec’s wariness. It makes the experience seem more real, they say. How fortunate that a glitch in the programming should lead to this result! Quebec is fast becoming a favourite for romantic engagements.”

Jongwoon hunches his shoulders. “Maybe, but can’t he have a break? I mean, I guess if a man’s tired of fucking he’s tired of living and all that, but can’t he have a change of pace? Henry told me the other day that Romeo took the place of a downhill skier in some big contest. That’d be fun. Why can’t—”

“Henry had no business discussing details of an engagement with you.” The pleasant expression is gone from Zhou Mi’s face and his voice turns cold. “I will have words with him. And yes, I do intend for Quebec to expand into other, more specialised engagements, but you must realise that romantic tasks are the most profitable and bring us repeat business.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jongwoon mutters. “It’s just...”

“We present the whole spectrum of human ability, and yet our clients want only two things—power or intimacy.” Zhou Mi shakes his head as if in disbelief. “And they want those things again and again.”

“Maybe they’re trying to grow,” Jongwoon suggests. “Maybe each time they learn from the experience.”

Zhou Mi smiles, radiant again. “I don’t think so.”

* * *

Kyuhyun is summoned by his older woman on two more occasions. The first time, he accompanies her on a weekend break to stay with friends. The second time, she asks him to take her to bed. By now he thinks he knows her, even as she thinks she knows him. When they make love, he’s stunned to discover that she’s a virgin.

He apologises for his clumsiness. He’s afraid that he hurt her. She weeps in his arms and says she’s happy, then gives him a diamond tie-pin and kisses him goodbye.

“I don’t understand,” Kyuhyun says in the van as they return to the Dollhouse.

Jongwoon looks at him in surprise. “What?”

Usually they don’t talk. Kyuhyun knows from listening in on other handlers’ conversations that often a Doll is very voluble on the way back from an engagement. They talk about their feelings, unburdening themselves to their trusted friend. They’ll even talk to another imprinted Doll with the same abandon. Kyuhyun knows he should probably do the same thing, but this was an aspect of Doll behaviour he didn’t know about until later, and he thought it might arouse suspicion if he suddenly started talking where before he’d been silent.

But now he’s spoken, and Jongwoon is looking at him with a kind of wonder.

“I don’t understand,” Kyuhyun says again, turning the diamond tie-pin between his fingers. “Why don’t these people find something real?”

For a moment, Jongwoon is quiet. Then he says, “Because they can’t handle real.”

Kyuhyun meets his gaze. “They can’t handle fantasy, either.”

Jongwoon almost smiles. “Can you?”

In that second, Kyuhyun has the disarming notion that Jongwoon knows he’s pretending. It’s a dangerous thought, one that could land them both in trouble. He looks away. “I don’t know.”

* * *

“Another romantic engagement,” Jongwoon grumbles as they drive towards the marina. “I tried, Quebec. I’ve been asking for cool stuff for you.”

“But this is cool!” Kyuhyun says, slipping a little deeper into the bright, bubbly persona requested by the client. “I’m looking forwards to this trip. It’s so exciting. I’ve never been on a yacht before! I hope I don’t get seasick.”

“You won’t.” Jongwoon flashes a grin at him, then sighs. “I’m more worried that I will. Much as I get bored sitting in the back of the van while you go swanning off enjoying yourself at parties and the opera and whatnot, I’d rather be on dry land than on the water.”

Kyuhyun opens his eyes wide. “Ooh, are you coming with me?”

“Orders from the boss.” The entrance to the marina is just ahead of them. Jongwoon signals and makes the turn. “Guess he thinks Baek Sukhoon will kidnap you or something.”

“Oh, don’t. Just don’t. You’re trying to frighten me.” Squeezing his hands into fists, he props them beneath his chin and wriggles from side to side, petulant and absolutely ridiculous. “Everyone’s warned me away from Sukhoon, but I thought you’d be on my side. He’s not a bad man. He’s just misunderstood.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jongwoon rolls his eyes as he guides the van towards a parking space. “The fact that he wants a pretty little airhead to admire his nice big yacht is... Yeah, okay, what am I saying—it’s completely normal.”

Kyuhyun flips down the sun visor to check his appearance in the little mirror. He fluffs at his hair, pouts at his reflection, then blinks and looks at Jongwoon, affecting bewilderment. “Did you just call me an airhead?”

“No.” The van pulls up. Jongwoon yanks on the handbrake then turns off the engine. He stares out of the windscreen towards the waiting yacht, a toy for a city boy with too much money, then he looks back at Kyuhyun. “I take you seriously.”

Kyuhyun’s heart clenches tight. He releases a breath and summons his most vacuous smile. “Let’s go!”

* * *

Things start going wrong almost as soon as they leave the harbour.

Baek Sukhoon is a drug dealer and the yacht is his latest toy. On land, in the city, Baek flaunts a succession of pretty girls. On the water, he indulges with his true preference—a beautiful boy.

He orders Kyuhyun to make dinner. Kyuhyun considers himself to be a passable cook, but even if he had a recipe book in front of him, which he doesn’t, he doubts he could make lobster mousse and roast poulet and a stack of profiteroles. It’d be difficult in his own kitchen; in the galley of a yacht, it’s impossible. Worse still, Baek expects him to prepare this meal completely naked.

Jongwoon is tucked away elsewhere on the boat. Probably he’s keeping company with one of the half-dozen crew and bodyguards Baek brought with him. Kyuhyun knows that Jongwoon won’t intervene unless Baek deviates from the fantasy he bought. There’s always a fair amount of wiggle room with these things; it’ll only be if Kyuhyun shows signs of distress that Jongwoon is permitted to make an appearance and terminate the engagement.

Kyuhyun wonders if he’s showing signs of distress now as he faces the heaps of ingredients. He has no idea where to start. His nudity will only keep Baek distracted for a little while.

He offers Baek a drink, hoping that his client will go and relax in the state room with an aperitif, but Baek shakes his head. It seems that his kink is watching a pretty naked guy prepare food, and he’s not going to miss a single moment of the show.

Smiling as if making lobster mousse is his favourite thing to do, Kyuhyun lays out various implements. He puts a large pan of water on to boil, remembering vaguely that the humane way to kill lobsters is to plunge them into very hot water.

He keeps up a stream of inconsequential chatter as he moves around the galley, bending over far more than is necessary and sighing at the heat gathered in the cramped quarters. Baek’s gaze is fastened to his body the whole time. His client doesn’t tell him to shut up, doesn’t tell him to cook faster. Baek’s erection tents the front of his chinos. Kyuhyun has high hopes that they’ll skip the dinner part soon and get on to the sex before his lack of culinary expertise becomes any more obvious.

Opening the freezer to retrieve the lobsters, Kyuhyun exclaims at the cold and makes sure to draw Baek’s attention to his stiff nipples. His client’s mouth hangs open and blank lust suffuses his features.

Kyuhyun bounces over to the stove. Just before he drops the lobsters into the boiling water, he hears a dull thud. It’s just a small sound, as if something nudged against the hull. He hesitates, and then he dumps the lobsters into the pan and they shriek.

Baek has a hand down the front of his trousers now. “Maybe,” he says, “while you wait for the lobsters to boil...”

From the deck above comes a thump, and then there’s shouting, running feet, and then gunfire, sharp and percussive.

Kyuhyun stares at Baek. He doesn’t need to pretend to be afraid.

Footsteps on the stairs. The bang of a door nearby. Angry, excited shouts. More gunfire, getting louder all the time.

“Shit.” Baek turns, his erection still jutting. He pats down his jacket, horror dawning as he realises he doesn’t have a weapon. He jolts away from the galley and leaves Kyuhyun to his fate.

The water is almost boiling over. Kyuhyun stands frozen.

At the far end of the galley is a serving hatch, which opens out into the dining room adjacent to the state room. Kyuhyun whirls when the hatch rattles. It inches upwards and Jongwoon tries to crawl through.

“Kyuhyun.” He’s bleeding, one hand pressed to his side. In his other hand he holds a gun. “Thank God you’re safe.”

“What’s happening?” Kyuhyun pulls Jongwoon the rest of the way through the hatch and eases him onto the floor. Snatching up a clean tea towel, he presses it to the gunshot wound.

“Guess Baek Sukhoon isn’t as popular as he likes to think.” Jongwoon hisses and takes the tea towel, stuffing it under his shirt. He looks at Kyuhyun, really looks, and his eyes widen. “You’re naked.”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t be naked.” Jongwoon struggles out of his snakeskin coat. His eyes cloud with pain, but his mouth is set in a determined line.

Kyuhyun takes the coat and puts it on. He zips it up a little way, then tugs the hem down. It’s too short on him, but it reaches to mid-thigh and that’ll have to do. There’s a rip in the side where the bullet burnt its way through. There’s blood, too, and Kyuhyun stares at the red smeared across his palm and then he stares down at Jongwoon.

“We have to get the hell off this boat.”

Jongwoon grins. His face is white. “Never thought you’d ask.”

A desperate shriek rends the air. Two more gunshots. Jongwoon pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll protect you.”

Kyuhyun tuts. Jongwoon might have the gun, but he’s wounded and weakened by pain. “Give me the gun,” Kyuhyun says, snatching the sidearm from him. The cartridge is jammed. Better not mention that. “Let’s see if I can remember basic Army training.”

“Point and shoot,” Jongwoon says, as if this is helpful.

There’s a scuffle in the corridor. Kyuhyun takes aim. Two armed man loom into the doorway.

Kyuhyun doesn’t hesitate. He flings the gun at them, then snatches the pot of boiling water from the stove and hurls it in their faces, lobsters and all.

* * *

Their escape is due more to luck than judgement. Baek’s bodyguards and whoever the hell had boarded the yacht—the henchmen of some rival dealer, probably—had done a good job of taking each other out, and while it wasn’t easy creeping up onto the main deck and climbing into the tender and jettisoning it, Kyuhyun guesses it was probably easier than having to fight their way out armed with a skillet, a carving knife, and the two handguns they’d taken from the thugs surprised outside the galley.

It’s cold on the open water. Kyuhyun tucks the jacket closer around his thighs and shivers. He looks at the shore and wonders how long it’ll take for Zhou Mi to send a team to rescue them.

Jongwoon sits opposite. His hand is still pressed against his side, but the bleeding seems to have stopped and he just looks grey and tired now. With his other hand, he’s turning his phone over and over against his thigh. He’s left it switched on so their position can be tracked.

After a long silence, he looks up, brightness returning to his expression. He grins. “I always knew you were pretending.”

Kyuhyun smiles back at him. “I’m not pretending anymore.”


End file.
